The Flatulent Tales of Severus Snape
by Mackenna
Summary: In which our favorite potions professor blows wind.


**Title:** The Flatulent Tale of Hogwarts

**Genre: **Humor

******Rating:** G

**Summary:** In which our favorite potions professor blows wind.

****

**Author:** Clover

**_Note:_ **Earlier, I thought I was going to continue the story, but as I re-read it, I think that another chapter would have been redundant :)

Snape grimaced.

Seated stiffly behind his desk, in front of thirty young Hogwarts students who were quietly stirring and placing carefully measured amounts of ingredient into frothy, bubbling cauldrons, Snape grimaced again, a muscle twitching at his temple. No, the idiot boy Longbottom hadn't caused another explosion or melting of his umpteenth cauldron, and even that wretched Potter didn't seem to be up to anything. His classroom was under complete order and control, and ironically, today, he wished it wasn't. He had never noticed it before, but the silence which he often most desired and strived for was almost---too silent…

Snape clamped his fists around the arms of his chair, bony knuckles going white, nails grinding into the varnished wood. Muscles rigid, his face contorted in extreme concentration as he held his breath, nostrils flaring, a vein now bulging in his forehead. And then it came. The thing that he had been trying so desperately to conceal now made its appearance.

Had someone the courage to look up at their potions professor, they would have been rather concerned and perhaps even quite frightened to see their professor behaving in such a state and manner, but no one, not even the Gryffindors, was bold enough to attempt this, and as a result, no one took notice.

That is, until a faint sound could be heard. It began softly at first, but then became louder, and louder, pulsing at strange intervals, longer, then shorter, then longer again, until the sound could be clearly heard over the bubbling cauldrons. And then a thick, seeping, pungent odour.

Snape froze.

How on earth was he going to get out of this one?

* * *

Across the classroom, Seamus Finnegan wrinkled up his nose. Was the potion that he was brewing supposed to smell like that? Leaning closer over his cauldron, he carefully sniffed. Wait--- the smell wasn't coming from his potion or cauldron at all.

"Oi Dean," he whispered quietly, elbowing his best friend and fellow Gryffindor Dean Thomas, "You smell that?"

Dean also sniffed, and immediately pinched his nostrils, making a face.

"Aw Seamus, that's disgusting mate!"

Seamus glared. "It wasn't me!"

Harry Potter, who had been listening to the conversation, looked up grinning, remembering the last time Seamus had been guilty of producing a certain stink. Opening his mouth to join the conversation, Harry stopped grinning as a strong odour seemed to reach his nostrils, and instead, clapped his hand over his mouth and nose. Dean was right, it _was _disgusting. Harry sincerely hoped that it hadn't been Seamus, for Seamus' sake as well as the rest of the class.

"Hermione! Hermione!", Neville Longbottom whispered frantically looking panicked, "Something's gone wrong with my potion! It smells horrible, and I think---I think its starting to make noise…Can you hear it?"

Hermione Granger leaned over, examining Neville's potion, which for once seemed to be working correctly.

"No Neville…Your potion looks perfectly fine", she said, shaking her head. But where was that sound coming from? Not to mention that awful smell, Hermione thought, quickly covering her nose with her sleeve as the smell grew stronger.

"Ugh…what is that?" Ron Weasley whispered loudly, plugging his nose, "Was that really you, Seamus?"

Seamus, who was still arguing with Dean, both who now had their hands over their noses, replied with a muffled, yet forceful "NO!"

"He who smelt it, dealt it."

"It wasn't me!"

"Eurgh…what is that?"

Soon, the rest of the class began noticing the increasingly strong odour, many of them covering their noses with their sleeves or hands, and whispering. Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown had even managed to fashion a sort of face mask out of their handkerchiefs and were now admiring their handiwork, substituting their shiny brass scales as mirrors. Draco Malfoy's usual smug smirk had been replaced by a rather green, sickened look, while Crabbe and Goyle didn't seem to notice the presence of the odour at all.

Harry, who was also beginning to feel rather sick, finally decided to look up at Snape to see how he was reacting to the disruption, but to his surprise, found Snape not irritated or sneering, but was looking as if a deer would look had it been caught in the beam of ones headlights.

Harry stared. Why was Snape---

Eyes widening in realization, Harry attempted to stifle his laughter, ducking down before Snape could catch him looking and blame him for something completely ludicrous.

"Ron…Ron!" Harry whispered, elbowing Ron, while furiously attempting to hold in his laughter, "Look---Look at Snape!"

Ron looked up, face dawning with realization, and soon was attempting to muffle his snickers.

"I hope it's not a gas leak…My gran says that those can be silent and deadly", Neville said worriedly, now struggling to construct his own face mask.

Harry choked.

Or in Snape's case, perhaps not so silent.

_End._


End file.
